


Blood Brothers

by Delanach



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-18
Updated: 2012-03-18
Packaged: 2017-11-02 04:06:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delanach/pseuds/Delanach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After they run from the convent as Lucifer rose, Sam has to face up to what he’s done, and Dean gives him a way to deal with the blood addiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> A coda to 4.22

There was a moment’s hesitation, a moment when Sam stared at the opening jaws of hell, a moment that could have cost them everything.

Dean shook him, one hand desperately fisted in his shirt as Sam clasped his shoulder, damned if he was going to let Sam fall now after coming to so close to losing him altogether. Sam’s attention shifted, locked onto his brother, and then they were running, away from the blinding light that heralded Armageddon.

As Lucifer rose, they fled from the convent, pulling each other along, never quite letting go until they reached the relative safety of Ruby's Mustang. Dean grimaced as he hot wired it, wishing the Impala wasn't back at Bobby's, but knowing they didn't have a choice. It roared into life, and Dean floored it, heading west into West Virginia, keeping off the highways, even though any pursuit wasn’t likely to be by road.

Sam stared silently ahead as Dean drove, his eyes vacant. He didn’t see the road. He saw a nurse struggling, crying out for mercy as she was slaughtered for the wrong reasons. He remembered the taste of her blood, the way that each unnecessary mouthful had hit his stomach like a stone. He saw the glee in Ruby’s eyes as she’d told him the truth and he saw bright white light as what he’d unleashed clawed it’s way out of hell.

He didn’t notice Dean’s continual glances at him, worried and concern in his eyes but he did feel the grip of Dean’s hand on his shoulder, giving what reassurance he could. It was the only thing that did register, and Sam hardly noticed when they hit a small town with a homey motel and Dean left him in the car while he paid cash for a room with a kitchen for three nights.

Sam sat motionless until Dean opened the door and led him into their room. As Dean slipped Sam’s jacket from his shoulders and sat him down on the bed, anxiously checking him over, one thought banished everything else from Sam’s thoughts. Dean had come for him. Despite everything they’d both done and said, Dean had come for him. He clung to that thought like a life preserver as he wordlessly followed his brother‘s lead.

Dean switched on the shower and undressed them both. It’s not like they hadn’t done it before, showered together and more, but that was before Dean went to hell when things were simpler. Before the lies and mistrust got the better of them both. Sam had missed Dean’s hands on him, but he hadn’t known how to ask for something that was once given so freely.

Dean pushed Sam into the shower stall and joined him. Sam stood immobile as Dean washed him clean under the hot spray, rinsing away the outward stench of demons and death.

Later, when Sam was curled up on the bed, still shaking, Dean pulled all the blankets onto his bed and slid under them too, wrapping himself around Sam and holding him when he began to cry.

“Shh, Sammy. I gotcha.”

That only made Sam cry harder. Sam wished the tears could wash the taint of demon out of him as easily as the shower had cleaned his skin, but he knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

“I did it. Set him free. You’re right Dean, I’m a monster, a vampire, I deserve to be hunted, I’m …” Sam’s body trembled, wracked with deep, painful sobs.

“I never called you a vampire, Sam.“ Dean’s brow furrowed and Sam raised his head to look at him.

“You … you did. In the voicemail you left. You said …”

“I left a message, yeah. I said I was sorry, that you were still my brother.” Dean’s confusion turned to realization and he Dean held Sam tighter. “Sons of bitches.“ He cursed whichever side had tampered with his words. “That’s all I said, Sam, and that’s all that matters, okay?”

Sam began to hyperventilate. He could hear the truth of it Dean’s voice, which meant it was the final manipulation, the final push into doing what needed to be done.

“Shh, Sammy, come on, calm down.” Dean cupped Sam’s cheek and smoothed his thumb over the sharp cheekbone beneath it. “It’s okay.”

Sam concentrated on the touch, the swipe of Dean’s thumb over his skin, and blocked out everything else. His breathing slowed and he buried his face in Dean’s shoulder. Logically, Sam knew that it wasn’t okay, that nothing could be okay again after what he’d done. But knowing that this, that being brothers again was all that mattered to Dean, gave him something to cling to, a sliver of hope that he sorely needed. He clung to Dean too, as if he were six again and the only thing that could make him feel better was the warmth and love of his big brother.

He didn’t think he’d sleep, but his body knew better. Exhausted, he fell into a deep, thankfully dreamless sleep and Dean held him through the night, unwilling to sleep himself in case Sammy needed him.

 

The next day, withdrawal set in. The amount of energy Sam expended killing Lilith had drained him completely, and his body was trembling again, but for a different reason. He couldn’t sit still, and when Dean put a hand on his shoulder, he whipped around and pinned him to the wall with a snarl. A heartbeat later and he let go, dropping to the floor and wishing he could crawl away and die rather than endure the clawing need eating at his veins from the inside.

“Sammy.” Dean hunkered down in front of him. “Sammy, look at me.”

“I’m sorry, Dean, I’m sorry ...” Sam kept his eyes tightly closed and rocked backwards and forwards.

“Open your eyes, Sam.” Dean cupped Sam’s face with his hand and Sam reluctantly opened his eyes to look at Dean, expecting disapproval or disgust. The sorrow and regret that he did see surprised him.

“You’ve got to be strong, Sammy. Lilith’s gone, you don’t need to stoke up your powers anymore and there’s no way we can go looking for a fix. We’ve got to lay low. Finding a demon would put us right back on the radar.”

“I ... I never needed it.”

“What?”

“The demon blood. Ruby told me, after Lilith was dead. The power’s been in me all along.”

“So what? Getting you hooked on demon blood was for kicks?” Dean seethed. “To control you? Damn, I wish I’d had some alone time with that bitch before I ganked her.”

“Meant I’d go back to her, choose her, but it was all me, all my choices ...”

“Sam, stop.” Dean’s hand slipped onto Sam’s neck. “The angels knew that Lilith was the last seal, just like Ruby did. They took me out of the game so I couldn’t get to you.”

Sam stared at him, his eyes dull. “Cas? And … and _God_? They knew, they used me?”

“God left the building a long time ago, he had nothing to do with this, and Cas came through in the end. He got me out of there, got me to Chuck. That was how I knew where to find you.”

Sam’s body trembled, and Dean wondered how close he was to breaking point.

“We were both played, bro. We both made bad choices along the way cause we thought we were doing the right thing. But it stops, right here, right now.”

“But ...”

“No buts, Sammy. You didn’t have all the facts, neither of us did. And that skank poisoned you. It was like giving heroin to a hooker and then giving them the “choice” to keep turning tricks or not.” Dean’s mind was working overtime, still processing the news that his baby brother had the strength inside him all along to take on the worst of demons. Inwardly, he cursed Ruby again.

“I can’t … I can’t go through it again.“ Sam trembled, and he whimpered with pain and need. “Not cold turkey. The hallucinations, I can’t …”

“You might not have to.“ Dean pulled him to his feet and sat him down on the bed. He picked up the smallest of his knives and sat down next to him. Sam saw what he had in his hand and his eyes widened.

“Dean?”

“Might not work, but it’s worth a shot. If the addiction’s separate from the power inside you, then maybe any blood could take the craving away, maybe it doesn’t have to be demonic.”

“No! I’m not drinking your blood!” Sam stood up, his heart racing.

Dean didn’t say anything, he just looked up at him. Sam sat back down on the bed with a thud. He got it. He’d chosen Ruby over Dean so many times, and it had to stop. He’d drunk from her, knowing that it had to be wrong, but doing it anyway for the greater good, and all those choices had brought him to this. So now he did have a choice, a free choice. Take what Dean was offering freely, a way to control this, wean himself off it, or reject him again.

Sam nodded his head, and Dean held out his arm and sliced into it with the blade. Sam’s senses prickled as the rich liquid welled to the surface of the cut and he bent forward and sealed his mouth over it. He sucked greedily, groaning as the first drops hit his tongue, Dean’s taste rich and strong in his mouth. It was different, but it was good. It slaked his thirst, eased his hunger and Sam drank deep, the familiar heat of arousal curling in his belly.

Of all the reactions Dean expected from the sensation of Sam pulling the blood from his veins, a hard on wasn’t one of them. He groaned and carded his fingers through Sam’s hair, becoming perfectly still when Sam looked up at him with irises blown completely black, suckling at the wound on Dean’s arm.

The need was so urgent, thrumming through his body, that it took Sam a moment to notice the change in Dean. With great effort, he pulled back, not sure he could stop now if he tried, but despite being freaked out, Dean didn’t stop him.

“Take what you need.” His voice was hoarse.

After a heartbeat, Sam lowered his mouth to Dean’s arm and pulled more of his lifeblood into his mouth, savoring the taste.

Dean whimpered, fingers making soothing circles on Sam’s neck as the feel of Sam’s mouth on his skin had the same effect it always did. He’d missed the closeness they’d shared before he’d gone to hell. Once he was back, too many secrets lay between them and the physical closeness they shared wasn’t continued. Dean had missed sleeping around Sam, waking up to the touch of his fingers on his skin, but something had held him back, a fear that if he gave in and opened himself up to Sam again, too much would be revealed.

And once he’d told Sam what hell had truly been like, it was too late. Neither of them could cross the gap that had grown between them. Now Sam’s mouth was on him again, licking and sucking and mauling his flesh, and it felt good. Dean involuntarily arched a little towards him and moaned softly.

Sam grew bolder as the blood filled him, Dean’s taste different but more satisfying and Sam wondered if it was because it was so close to his own. Shared blood, family blood. At the quiet moan, he ran a hand up Dean’s chest, groaning when his fingers brushed over the hard bud of a nipple beneath Dean‘s tee, tightly furled from the sensation of Sam drinking.

Sam pulled back. He could have taken more, but Dean’s blood eased the burning need faster than any demon’s had and he ran the tip of his tongue along the cut. One urge was sated but another demanded attention. Now a different need clawed at him.

“Dean?” He wanted more, wanted the right to touch and take again, wanted Dean with a passion he’d denied himself for long months.

Dean pulled him up, looking into his darkened eyes, and slammed his mouth against Sam’s, his tongue chasing the taste of his own blood round Sam’s mouth.

“Dean …” Sam groaned his brother’s name, high on blood, higher on Dean wanting him. He pushed Dean to the bed, and gasped as calloused fingers undid his fly and wrapped around his swollen dick.

Sam wanted more, wanted to fuck Dean hard, bury himself inside his tight heat while Dean whimpered and writhed, but Dean’s touch was enough to bring him slamming towards the edge. His senses were swamped, overloaded by his brother’s taste, by Dean’s blood filling him, melding with his own. Dean’s thumb grazed the swollen head of his dick as he pulled on it, and Sam came, growling against Dean’s neck, humping his hips against Dean’s body, letting go completely until he lay, boneless and spent, across Dean’s chest.

“Sammy, gotta breathe here, dude.” Dean gasped and Sam rolled off him, immediately snuggling back against his side. His long fingers teased along the waistband of Dean’s jeans, popping the button and easing the zipper down.

“Touch me.” It was more of a command than a plea, and Sam pulled Dean’s jeans and underwear down over his hips to give him better access.

He ran his fingers up the full length of Dean’s cock making him shudder and roll his hips. One fingertip lingered, sliding through the beads of moisture leaking from the slit. Sam brought it up to his mouth and slipped it between his lips, groaning at tang of it on his tongue.

As Dean’s hands tangled in his hair and before his brother could demand more, Sam moved down his body and took Dean’s dick into his mouth, sucking down an inch at a time until it nudged the back of his throat.

Dean cursed and widened his legs so Sam could settle between them, tightening his hands in Sam’s hair and holding him while he fucked up into his mouth. Sam whimpered around him, relaxing and letting Dean use him. His tongue lapped and swirled as Dean pistoned between his lips and he looked up at him, trusting and pliant.

Dean looked down into green, lust blown eyes, no longer the almost demonic black they had been while Sam was drinking. Eyes that held something that had been missing for too long. It was seeing the trust in them that sent Dean spiraling over the edge, stilling in Sam’s mouth as he threw his head back and pumped his release down Sam’s throat.

Sam swallowed greedily, lapping up the smears from the corners of his mouth once Dean slipped from between his lips.

He moved back up the bed, and Dean looked at him, examining his face.

“Well? Did it work? Has it helped?”

Sam knew Dean was referring to the blood, not the sex, but he couldn’t help smirking. “Yeah, it worked. The craving’s gone.”

“Good.” Dean settled them comfortably on the bed together, feeling lightheaded. “Now we can start weaning you off it.”

“Off everything?” Sam knew that he had to kick the addiction to the blood, but his renewed addiction to Dean was something he wasn’t prepared to give up.

“The blood, Sam, just the blood.” Dean reassured, catching the worried look on Sam’s face. “And since I’m going to be your personal blood bank, I’m going to have to start doubling up on the burgers.”

“You rest, I’ll go grab us some food.” Sam kissed him and stood up, fastening his pants.

“No. Stay here, we can both go after I’ve had a nap.” Dean rolled his eyes at the very idea. Hunters didn’t nap, that was for kids, but he did feel the need to close his eyes for an hour or so.

“The diner’s just over the road, I can be there and back in no time.”

“No, Sam, just …” What did he say? I don’t want you out of my sight? The last time I sent you into a diner, the demons took you? It wasn’t a matter of trust anymore, it was needing Sam close, needing to know he was safe. Turned out he didn’t need words. Sam sat back down on the bed and took his boots off.

“Okay, we’ll go together when you wake up.”

Dean nodded gratefully and they curled up together, Dean’s head on Sam’s chest, Sam’s fingers running over his scalp. He knew it wasn’t always going to be that easy, that Sam was strong willed and they didn’t always see eye to eye, but it was a start. The fist step to getting back what heaven and hell had taken from them.

 

**Ten Days Later**

Dean could read the signs well by now, he could tell exactly when the craving started. Sam became twitchy, his eyes flicking to Dean whether he was eating in a diner, sitting in a motel room or driving. Then he got cranky, huffing and picking at the strategy they'd both agreed on.

No way were they going against Lucifer alone and with Sam still off his game. Dean had stood firm, and Sam had agreed with only a little reluctance. First off, they needed to locate Cas and Chuck. The angel and the prophet were very necessary resources and there was no way a battle plan could be drawn up without them. Bobby agreed, and also reassured Dean that his baby was safe and sound. Dean was itching to ditch the Mustang, couldn't help wrinkling his nose every time he got inside, but knew that their path didn't lie in that direction just yet. So from the relative safety of South Dakota, Bobby scoured every resource he had to help and kept an eye on the havoc that was being felt all along the east coast.

Lucifer was busy, but as yet uncoordinated as far as they could tell. Dean wondered if it was because there'd been no faithful followers to greet him, and no Sam. Neither he nor Sam were any closer to knowing exactly what the plan had been once he'd risen, apart from ultimately creating hell on earth, or if there'd been any further plans for Sam. Dean shuddered at both thoughts.

"We're nowhere near finding them, and he's not going to stop on his own, Dean." Sam worried his lip and stared out of the window.

"This is the first solid lead we've had. Don't write it off yet." Dean glanced at his brother and saw the telltale jiggle of his knees.

Half an hour later, they drove through a sleepy town that was far enough away from the east coast to be watching reports on the TV with little more than morbid curiosity. The motel was small and clean and Sam grabbed both their bags from the trunk as Dean opened the door. He dropped them in the middle of the room, and looked around, his jaw clenching.

After the first time, Dean never offered. He let Sam gauge his own need and ask when it became too much, make his own decisions about when he really needed it and when he could get by without it.

The night before, Sam had begun to get itchy for it, but he’d pulled himself back from the edge and controlled the hunger, the craving, and Dean had been so proud of him.

Now, Sam was too close, too needy, and he waited until Dean was fresh from the shower, a towel round waist before he asked.

“Please Dean, I need it.”

Even though it was freely given, and Dean always made that plain, there was shame in Sam’s eyes, self hatred that Dean didn’t like to see. He stepped closer and dug both hands into Sam’s hair groaning as Sam’s greedy mouth latched onto his and kissed him hungrily.

“Get out of your clothes.” The order was softly spoken, but it was an order none the less and Sam stripped, leaving his clothes in a pile at the bottom of the bed. When he looked up, Dean already had the knife in his hand. He swallowed almost nervously and sat beside his brother.

“I’m proud of you, Sammy. I know you had a rough time last night, but you got through it.” The blade glittered in Dean’s hand and Sam stared at it, knowing what came next, needing it so badly.

Dean handed him the knife, handle first, and with it, he gave Sam control. The trust in his was actions implicit and deliberate. He got on the bed, sitting against the headboard and waited for Sam.

Hesitancy and shame were banished as soon as Sam’s fingers curled around the hilt of the blade. When he glanced up at Dean, his eyes were feral and Dean shuddered, but not from fear or revulsion. He knew it was fucked up, but Sam drinking from him, the deep pull as he sucked Dean’s blood from wherever he decided to cut, got him hard just thinking about it.

Sam grabbed Dean by the hips and pulled him down the bed to lie flat then he opened the towel and crawled up his body, nuzzling and licking the places on Dean’s body where his pulse raced close to the surface of his skin. Sam spread Dean’s legs apart, and lowered his head, slowly lapping up Dean’s right thigh to the crease where it joined his body. Sam drew the flat of the blade over the muscle of Dean’s left thigh, making him hiss, and pushed his face against Dean’s prick, feeling it pulse with blood. The heat and the heartbeat against his cheek spurred him on and he loomed over Dean, dragging the point of the blade across his brother’s chest. He looked up, and Dean let his head fall back, baring his neck to Sam, offering his trust up again.

Sam took the unspoken permission, and drew a thin line an inch long across Dean’s shoulder. Blood seeped from the wound as the blade cut into flesh. Sam moaned and dropped the knife on the bed, pressing his mouth to the cut and sucking at it, drawing the warm liquid into his mouth. The taste was intoxicating, copper rich and pure Dean. He pulled another mouthful from the willing flesh and savored it. So different from demon blood with the bitter tang to it that Ruby convinced him was raw energy to fuel his powers. Now he knew better.

He was different, changed, and the addiction was part of that, but with Dean’s help, he’d come to see that he could control it, could slowly pull back from the edge of darkness.

Dean’s fingers carded through Sam’s hair as he drank, and pulled him up sharply. He thrust his hips up, rubbing his thick cock against Sam’s hip.

“Do it.”

Dean’s voice was hoarse and Sam recognized the need in it, but this was new. After the first time, he’d always drunk from Dean and then taken him hard, but they’d never combined the two. Even like this, when he was high on the first mouthfuls of Dean’s blood and desperate to fuck. He shook his head. Dean yanked it further back. “I’m ready. Do it.”

Dean pulled him into a rough kiss. He could taste himself in Sam’s mouth, and he licked at the corners of Sam’s lips. Far from gross, it only made him want Sam more and the predatory way Sam was now looking at him heightened the need.

Sam was on him in an instant, kissing him hard, fucking his mouth with his tongue and Dean bucked beneath him, spreading his legs as Sam rutted against him. He whimpered and pulled at Sam’s hair.

Sam slipped his fingers between Dean’s cheeks and ran his finger over his puckered hole which was already slick with lube. Dean had done this for him, planned it so he could do what he needed to do and take him hard and fast.

“Dean ...” Sam growled as he lined up his cock and thrust into his brother’s heat.

“Ah, Sam ...” Dean cried out, his back arching as Sam split him open. He writhed as Sam fucked him, growling against his shoulder, rasping his tongue over the wound, suckling the cut as he drank, teeth grazing skin as if he were about to tear into Dean’s throat and take the rest of his life blood. Dean cried out as Sam’s teeth dug deep, and his hands grabbed his shoulders, but not to stop him.

Dean had lost his trust in Sam along the way, and Sam desperately needed it back if he were to get through the fucked up mess their lives were right now, so Dean gave it willingly. Gave his body up to Sam in every way possible, trusting that Sam would take what he needed and nothing more, showing that trust every time he handed Sam the knife, every time he gave up control to his brother.

Sam rutted, tearing his mouth away from Dean’s shoulder and sharing messy copper kisses with him as they fucked. Sam thrust deeper, harder, letting instinct to claim and take drive him. Dean clawed at his back, leaving deep welts behind, pulling Sam into him, urging him on, friction building around his cock, trapped between their moving bodies until it became too much. His body spasmed as he spurted come over both of them, tightening around Sam so much it was almost painful and then Sam joined him. Shot deep into Dean, leaving his mark inside to add to the marks he’d left on Dean’s skin.

They lay together, sweat soaked and bloody, Sam’s arms a protective circle around Dean. Dean sighed and closed his eyes, the now familiar sensation of lightheadedness after Sam drank making him sleepy. Sam nuzzled his temple. Now he was the stronger of the two of them, body buzzing gently, fueled by Dean’s blood. He lay awake as Dean snuffled in his sleep and buried his head on Sam’s chest.

Dean took care of him, watched out for him not only when the craving edged into distraction, but he had his whole life. And now he literally gave himself to Sam to stop him going insane with need. Sam loved him for always being there, no matter how hard he’d pushed him away. So now when Dean was vulnerable like this, Sam took care of him. Guarded him, almost daring Hell’s finest to walk through the door and challenge him.

They belonged to each other. Mine and yours went both ways and the bonds that held them together were strengthened by love and trust, blood and come. Whatever lay ahead, they would be stronger when it came to facing it down, because _they_ were stronger.


End file.
